The Black Gunner
by AngelOfPride
Summary: When brothers Alfred and Matthew signed up to fight over in Europe, they find the war between the rest of the Allies and the Axis is worse than they thought. Alfred is assigned to the Black Gunner, a powerful, legendary tank commanded by historic war hero Arthur Kirkland, accompanied by the rag-tag crew; Yao Wang, Francis Bonnefoy and Ivan Braginsky. 300 Germans against 5 Allies.
1. Prologue

"God dammit Francis get her on a hard left!"  
>"This is a 66 ton tank Angleterre- if I could turn her any quicker I would!"<br>A powerful _**boom**_from outside the massive armoured shell shook them to their feet.  
>China glanced up at the mirrors above his head, before going back to shooting, "We've lost Ralph's group!" he shouted over his shoulder in the cramped space, brow creased in focus.<p>

Arthur growled in irritation from the top hatch, firing from the machine gun as bullets pelted at the Black Gunner, bouncing off with sharp _pings._

Allied tanks were bursting into flames all around them, the screams of the men on foot merely a faint echo in the smoke even though some were less than three metres away.

The Englishman narrowed his eyes as he flooded German men with bullets- watching them drop where they stood with shrieks of agony- but the struggle was difficult.

"The Mary-Anne is out!" France yelled, turning the tank so sharply that Arthur almost feared it would topple over. But he trusted the old hunk of machinery- she wouldn't let him down yet.

Arthur took a quick glance over his shoulder as he saw parts of the Mary-Anne shoot sky-high. He felt a bullet scrape over his helmet, wincing as he turned to face the enemy again.

"They have a Tiger!" He heard Yao shriek, "There is nothing else that could bust a tank like that with only one shot!"  
>"We've only got The Buzzard and Sona-Raina left!" England yelled over the thundering bullets, shooting down another few German soldiers. Then he stopped. A large mass was barely visible in the smoke. He grinned in relieved triumph, "I can see the Tiger!"<br>"Where are we looking?" Francis called up.

"Keep going straight- Russia, get a cannon ready!"  
>"Already there." The huge country replied, and England glanced down into the tank to see Ivan thrusting the huge item of destruction into the main gun.<p>

Bullets continued to pour onto the tank as the Germans realised their location had been discovered.

"Waiting on your call England!" China howled, taking down the machine guns.

"Hold."

France's voice rang out, "Arthur we're close enough for them t-"  
>"Hold. We're taking that bastard out in one clear shot." He said more firmly.<p>

They couldn't have been more than 20 metres away now. Dead enemies and friends lay in the scarlet stained blood around them.

The German soldiers were shouting in their native language, their desperation evident as the Allies' tank continued to advance. They fired from the Tiger- but in their haste the cannon exploded just a metre or so away, sending dirt high into the air.

"Wait..."  
>"England!"<p>

16 metres.

Flooding bullets.

"Hold..."

15 metres.

Deafening screams.

"FIRE!"

**A/N: so I know that was short but it's just the prologue :) Hope you stick around for the rest of the story- and remember to follow and fav :D**


	2. Dreams and Reality, There's a Difference

Alfred tapped his foot impatiently as the truck jolted along the dirt road. Outside the dust covered window, green fields, thick forests and grey, cold villages zoomed by. Europe was a beautiful place...he would have to come more often once the war was over.

Opposite him, he noticed Matthew fiddling with his fingers, a worried crease in his brow.

Alfred smirked, "Relax bro- think of it as an adventure!"  
>Matthew glanced up at him sceptically, "War is no adventure America." he mumbled.<p>

Alfred rolled his eyes, "Oh come on, you're not even on the frontline! What do you have to worry about?"  
>Matthew sighed in exasperation, "We're going to a warzone Al. We're not going to be safe- not once!"<p>

Alfred snorted, "We'll be fine- you worry too much."

Honestly, his heart was pounding in anticipation. Since he was a boy he'd wanted to become a soldier- and he had done. Throughout history he'd fought in a war or two- but a WORLD war? Well, okay he'd been in the last one- but this one was different! He could feel it! He didn't notice his brother watching him with concern; praying that Alfred would someday realise war was no game to be played every couple years.

A couple hours later, the brothers stepped out of the back of the truck, their boots instantly being sucked into the trodden mud. Alfred looked around in awe and then...oh. Large white tents were scattered together- and he could hear the moans of men in agony from within some, the jeer of drunken soldiers from others.

A cart pulled by two skinny horses was pulled past him, the wooden wheels ricketing through the sticky mud. Alfred winced at the stench, and noticed the mass of bodies piled onto the cart- flies buzzing around them like moths to a flame. He swallowed hard, hearing Matthew's quiet whimper beside him.

Two men strode up to them- both wearing the French army uniform, though one had a white band over his arm with a red cross.

"You are our new boys oui? Alfred Jones and Matthew Williams?" The man without the band enquired.

Alfred took in his stern features, and nodded, "Yes sir." he mentally slapped himself at the tiny squeak in his voice.

The stern faced man nodded with a small grunt, "Jones, you come with me, I'll take you to your assigned...vehicle." he grunted.

Before America could respond, the Frenchman turned and began to stalk away through the crowd. Glancing an apologetic look towards Canada, he hurried after him.

As they walked, Alfred took in the long lines of Cars, trucks and tanks. The tanks looked so huge- it was still hard to believe that they were so cramped within- but he'd already discovered in the training simulation that wasn't the case.

The occasional man would be hurried past on a stretcher, blood flowing from the stumps of missing limbs and moans of agony escaping his lips. And then the next moment, a group of lads would stumble along, laughing and clapping eachover on the back. It was like two words poorly blended into one, and he wasn't sure if he was comfortable with it. His thoughts drifted back to Matthew as he dragged his feet through the mud. His brother had a strong stomach, stronger than he would have thought given his timid personality; but he still worried how Canada would cope in the circumstances. It was his job to worry about his little brother.

The French man stopped outside one of the tanks. A small, lean man with long brown hair was perched on the hull chatting to a second; a great mountain of a man, with silver hair and a thick white scarf wrapped over his uniform.

"Ahem."

Both turned their attention, interest sparking in their eyes as they examined Alfred.

"This is the new beta gunner aru?" The smaller man asked curiously.

"Oui, Alfred -America." The Frenchman grunted, looking like he'd rather be doing anything else. He turned to America, "This is Yao Wang, also known as China, and Ivan Braginsky...err...Russia."

The Frenchman shifted awkwardly under Ivan's seemingly friendly smile, and Alfred had to admit- it was a little intimidating, especially when it turned on him.

"Can you shoot?"

"Yeah..."

"Good?"  
>"P-pretty well I guess..."<p>

"Good. Because we need somebody to keep up with China." Russia chuckled, and China smirked proudly- totally comfortable with the huge man.

"Eurh...I shall leave you to grow accompanied..." The Frenchman said, before rapidly stalking off.

America clicked his tongue awkwardly, shrugging the pack from his shoulder down into his hand.

China opened the driver's hatch, poking his head in, "Francis! Get up here aru, the new beta gunner is here!"

From the hatch at the top of the tank, a man with wavy, pale blonde hair popped his head out, a cocky smile on his face, "Ah- this must be America!" he said cheerfully enough.

"Yeah, that's me." Alfred shrugged, feeling almost shy. Oh, the shame!  
>"Ah, bonjour! Je m'appelle Francais!" France greeted as he jumped down from the hatch onto the hull beside China, "You may call me Francis."<br>"Nice to meet you Francis." Alfred said with a small smile as he reached out his hand. He was surprised at the strong grip France possessed despite his sleek features. Even his uniform was somehow cleaner than everybody else!

"Ah, a nice firm grip- you will make a good gunner!" The older nation chuckled, and America felt his confidence rise slightly.

"So, what do you guys do?" he asked.

"Driver." Francis purred, dipping in a small dramatic bow.

"Chief gunner." Yao said triumphantly, folding his arms over his chest.

"Ammunition and engineer." Ivan shrugged, still smiling...that was gonna take some getting used to.

America nodded, running his hand through his hair, "So, who's commander?"  
>"That would be me."<p>

Jumping in shock, Alfred turned to see a man, a little shorter than him. He had forest green eyes and messy blonde hair; not as dark as America's, but lighter than France's, and thick, dark eyebrows. Not to mention the seemingly permanent serious composure.

"Oh, sorry." Alfred grinned in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck, "Mr..."  
>The older man raised one of his large eyebrows in obvious disapproval, "Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland."<br>"Also known as Britain aru!" Yao ground out through his teeth behind America, where he and Ivan had begun an arm wrestle match.

"Or Angleterre." France added.

"Oh, hey." Alfred grinned, trying to be friendly, "Nice to meet you. I'm-"

"Alfred Jones-America." Arthur finished, still looking frustrated, "I expected someone a bit..." he looked the boy up and down, "Older."

Alfred blushed lightly, the coughed, feeling the need to regain his dignity, "I have a lot of skill with a gun sir."

"Oh is that so?"  
>"Yes sir."<br>Arthur trudged towards the tank, pointing to the co-axial gun, "Ever used one of these?"  
>"...Sometimes sir."<br>"Ever shot somebody?"

"...Not directly sir."  
>"Directly?"<br>"I've had men who've shot in the name of me and my country sir."  
>"But you yourself have never shot a gun from a tank?"<br>Alfred winced, hanging his head and shuffling his foot, "Well...no sir."  
>Arthur sighed in exasperation, "How bloody marvellous." he grunted, "I've got a gunner who's never shot anybody."<p>

Alfred glanced up. Ivan still had his poker-face on, smiling, while Yao and Francis looked slightly more sympathetic.

"Yao, go through the guns with him will you?" Arthur ordered.

Yao nodded, and invited Alfred up and into the tank.

As America climbed down into the cramped tank, he resisted a sigh. So far, this wasn't going as he had expected.


End file.
